Mother's Day came and went and honestly it was fairly uneventful for me. My husband and I just spent the day together running errands and helping his younger sister with some packing. My parents moved out West this past January so we didn't have a Mother's Day celebration to go to which made it easier.
The following weekend however, was another story. I got my BFN (Big Fat Negative) with the arrival of AF (Aunt Flow). For some reason this hit me really hard. I have been trying to separate myself from hope as much as possible. I have found that when I am hopeful at the possibility of being pregnant it hurts even more. The disappointment and devastation takes over. I had told myself that it wasn't going to be possible this month and was doing everything I normally did to try and protect myself, but then little things started to creep up which allowed me to be hopeful. My pain levels had started to ease and I hadn't required a Tylenol 3 for a couple days, then AF was late. My family Dr. keeps telling me that pregnancy can alleviate my pain and when AF hadn't shown up on time I started to think ... could this be it? I started to envision it, was hopeful that it could be true. Then I got the 'HA HA ... just kidding' arrival of AF. I was emotionally devastated and crying at any little thing. My hubby asked me what I wanted for breakfast and the tears just started pouring out and I asked him why he couldn't decide.
I saw this quote from one of the pages that I follow and I felt that it spoke to exactly what I was feeling:
"The English language lacks the words 'to mourn an absence.' For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child or friend we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful, some not. Still, we are conditioned to say something, even if ...it is only 'I am sorry for your loss.' But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness. For those who deeply want children and are denied them, those missing babies hover like silent, ephemeral shadows over their lives. Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held?" ~Laura Bush
I was feeling so raw and vulnerable, an aching emptiness that I couldn't fill
Maybe if you could take a walk in my shoes,
You would understand what it feels like to have the infertility blues.
The devastating feeling when on the test only one line appears,
The exhaustion over sleepless nights and crying so many tears.
... Maybe you wouldn't say “If it’s meant to be, it will be”.
Or “just relax, live your life and try to be worry free”.
By this you insinuate that I am doing something wrong,
Don't you understand how hard it is to stay strong?
Was it meant to be for the woman who chose to have an abortion?
Was it meant to be for women having babies born with addiction?
Choose you words carefully or please say nothing at all,
In this community of women the support seems so small.
“Do it in this position, drink this, and I heard not to eat that”.
Or “Did you know that you can’t get pregnant if you’re fat”?
Think before you speak because we have no tolerance for you!
You have no idea of our struggle and what we are going through!
If you want to be a friend please just be at our side.
Be there to support us and wipe our tears as we cry.
Don’t offer us testimonial or uneducated advice.
A hug and a shoulder to cry on will certainly suffice.
And if we are hopeful one month and trying to read our bodies' signs,
Please don’t tell us it’s too early or that we are losing our minds.
Let us hold on to our hope, as brief as it may be,
Because this is all we have, our dreams of pregnancy.
by Christina Lemal
Now we are approaching Father's Day. AF has arrived yet again and it looks like we'll be celebrating at the Clinic for my Day 3 Ultrasound and blood work.
Aside from the pain and disappointment the hardest part of this journey is the bitterness. I am bitter towards each new pregnancy announcement I hear and each new baby born. I am bitter towards people who will happily speak about their pregnancies or other people's kids in front of me without stopping to think how it may be impacting me. I am bitter towards people who make me feel as though I cannot talk about what I am going through and the 'hard' days because they are too uncomfortable or awkward with emotions. This is not a pleasant place to be in. I was once that friend who would joyously celebrate a friend's pregnancy with them. I have hunted down a friend at the hospital and arrived only hours after the birth of her second child because I was so excited for them! I want to be that person again. Please don't get me wrong, I am still happy for my family and friend's successes. Each of them deserve every bit of happiness they get and I don't ever want any of them to experience this heartache, but more and more I just can't handle it myself. I recently visited my best friend and her week old baby and although I was so happy to have met him and spent that time holding him, I cried for over a half hour on the way home because my heart ached so much that it hasn't happened for us yet.
I think I've said it before, but it is all one big roller coaster of emotions, many ups and downs throughout the month. Typically the arrival of AF is the worst, being the most emotional for me but I know that I will move forward and we will keep trying. It is all we can do. In the meantime I will work on getting myself healthier physically and hope that our first (or second) cycle trying Letrozole (Femera) works. If not, I will be going for the Transvaginal Endoscopy (TVE) and possible Laparoscopy in September.
